


The Hanged Man

by bluemojave



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28416930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemojave/pseuds/bluemojave
Summary: A collection of short-stories following V, a corporate worker for Arasaka-turned-mercenary, as he traverses Night City in search of nothing short of a miracle.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Male V
Kudos: 23





	The Hanged Man

**Author's Note:**

> Very happy to be getting back into writing- hope you enjoy!

“I can’t believe I’m trapped in the body of a goddamn corporate sellout.” Johnny’s frame fizzles and shakes with anger as he paces back and forth in front of him once, twice, three times. He turns to the merc in front of him slowly, flicking pixels of ash onto his feet for good measure.

“You’re a piece of shit, V.”

“I think we’re more similar than you think.” A wry smirk spreads across Silverhand’s lips as he casually slips his cigarette between them. As he takes a long drag, V can’t help but imagine the smoke flowing down his windpipe, into his lungs, the carcinogens overtaking and corrupting healthy cells into something dead and worthless. “Addicts...we always go back to what hurts us...” He muses, looking the man before him up and down, unabashedly lingering on his strong arms, the furrowing of his brow, the way his lips curve into a deep set frown. 

_He looks better when he’s angry._

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” V blatantly ignores his callout, batting his long-lashes in mock confusion as Johnny fumes.

“This system, this little rat race of ours...it places everything on matter of circumstance.” He raises a carefully manicured hand, counting methodically on his fingers as he talks. His palms are smooth and moisturized- even if one looked closely, they would never see the tell-tale callouses and scratches that betray his line of work. They would never realize how many lives those delicate hands have taken. “Circumstance of birth...of physical health...emotional stability...economic status. All open doors for people like me. Like us. And inescapable barriers for the less fortunate. They don’t even get to participate.”

“Not what I was talking about but sure...take as much time to wax-poetic as you want. Not like we’re on a time crunch or anything...”

As V fishes into his own pockets for a pack of cigarettes, Silverhand’s eyes light up almost immediately. Carefully, the merc places one in-between his index and middle finger, flipping it back and forth between them. 

“Do you want it?”

Johnny takes another step forward, foot planted firmly in-between V’s knees as he reaches for it, only for his hands to pass right through. He swears under his breath. “Stop playing around. Dealing with enough bullshit living with you, at least give me a goddamn break.”

V tuts softly. “Remember...those of us lucky enough to participate aren’t guaranteed even a slice of the grand prize. In Night City, it’s winner takes all.” He gestures with the cigarette, before flicking it into the palm of his other hand. As he meets Silverhand’s pointed gaze, the merc’s dark eyes shine in the neon lights of the city. “So you have to do everything you can to take it.”

Silverhand makes a big show of rolling his eyes, and in a flash of blue light cells he’s sitting next to him on the bench. “Oh yeah? And I suppose you think you’re the big-shot who can. Even with this-“ He gestures to himself. ”-ticking time bomb holding you back.”

“I don’t think that I can. I _know_ I will.” Carefully, V takes his lighter from his back pocket and lights the cigarette, taking a long, slow drag as Johnny’s body seems to loosen and relax as the nicotine enters their bloodstream. “You’re a nuisance, sure, but an asset nonetheless. You make me valuable. You give me a seat at the table.”

“Great. So I’m just a bargaining chip, is that it?” Another flash of pixels, and he’s braced against the concrete barricade, looking up at the huge ads for Militech, Arasaka, and Kang Tao displayed against the horizon. “I spend all that time blowing up Arasaka to high Heaven and in the end I’m still sucked back into the bullshit corpo-race this city runs on.”

“Bullshit? Of course it is.” There’s a twinge to V’s voice, the hint of a smile as he makes his way next to the born-again terrorist, letting out a soft sigh as he looks to the skyline riddled with neon lights and transport AVs. “It only matters because we make it matter. And that’s why I love this city Johnny, even if it’s for the reasons you hate it.” He flicks ashes onto the concrete by his feet, watching them splinter and putter out. “It’s easy to exploit.”


End file.
